Chapter 26.1

Qin Jiashu eagerly held out his tanghulu, only for Qin Zhengye to sneakily snatch half of Xu Jiaojiao’s. The little boy pouted and playfully punched his father’s leg with his tiny fist. “Bad Daddy!”

“That’s right, he’s bad,” Xu Jiaojiao agreed, wrinkling her nose in mock disapproval.

Qin Zhengye raised an amused eyebrow. “I’m a bad guy for eating half your tanghulu?”

“Mhm.” Xu Jiaojiao and Qin Jiashu nodded in unison, their eyes filled with mock condemnation.

Xu Jiaojiao wasn’t truly angry; she just felt a little awkward having Qin Zhengye eat half her tanghulu in public. Qin Jiashu’s accusation conveniently broke the tension, so she played along. Though he was just a toddler nearing four, Xu Jiaojiao inexplicably felt more confident with him by her side.

Qin Zhengye didn’t take their act seriously. He turned to Xu Jiaojiao. “Then how about I make it up to you?”

Qin Zhengye’s features weren’t delicate, but his upright appearance inspired instinctive trust. His personality, however, contradicted his dependable appearance. His teasing offer to buy more tanghulu felt like a trap.

“You’re joking, right?” Xu Jiaojiao shook her head wearily, pretending to fear being tricked.

“I ate half of yours. How about I buy you ten skewers of tanghulu to make up for it?”

“How boring. Let’s go,” Xu Jiaojiao said, glaring at him irritably.

Qin Jiashu’s eyes widened at the mention of ten skewers. “Dad, you have to pay up!” he insisted earnestly.

Ten skewers of tanghulu! That would last him ages. He could even share some with  San Guozi and Jie Di.

“Pay up for what?” Xu Jiaojiao lightly tapped the boy’s head. “Let’s go. It’s time to catch the bus home.”

The little rascal was remarkably quick-witted at times like this.

“Mom, Dad promised ten skewers of tanghulu! Ten whole skewers!” Qin Jiashu’s voice dripped with regret, trying to persuade Xu Jiaojiao to accept the offer.

Xu Jiaojiao shook her head, completely unmoved.

Qin Jiashu sighed. With his left hand held by his mother, he licked the tanghulu in his right hand, then his eyes lit up.

“Dad, hurry and eat mine!” Qin Jiashu strained on tiptoe, desperate to shove the skewer into Qin Zhengye’s mouth.

“It’s covered in your drool. No way,” Qin Zhengye said with a grimace.

“No drool!” Qin Jiashu stamped his foot.

Dad is so annoying! he thought with a sigh.

Though the tanghulu was delicious, Xu Jiaojiao didn’t eat much. After tasting two candied haws, she wrapped the skewer in its edible glutinous rice paper and put it away.

“Qin Zhengye?” Qin Muchi called out as he boarded the work bus with his son, Qin Tiesheng, on his back.

Qinjia Village—and indeed the entire Seventh Production Brigade—had only one soldier: Qin Zhengye. His green military uniform was both striking and awe-inspiring.

“I heard from my dad this morning that you were back in the village. Are you here to get your marriage certificate?” Qin Muchi asked as he set Qin Tiesheng down from his back.

Qin Zhengye had stopped by the brigade office on his way back from Seven Immortals Village to obtain the necessary documents. The “dad” Qin Muchi referred to was Qin Zhiwen, the brigade leader of the Seventh Production Brigade.

“Yes, to get the certificate,” Qin Zhengye replied with his usual brevity.

“Congratulations,” Qin Muchi said with a smile.

“Thank you,” Qin Zhengye responded, his eyes fixed on the pale and listless Qin Tiesheng. “Is that your son?”

“Yes, my son, Qin Tiesheng.”

“He doesn’t look well. Is he feeling unwell?”

“Ah, a few days ago, we had over a foot of snow. This little rascal went wild, playing in snowball fights every day and getting soaked. He’s usually tough as nails, and my wife lets him run wild, but last night he suddenly developed a high fever and started convulsing. I was scared out of my wits and rushed him to the county hospital first thing this morning.”

Qin Muchi pinched his son’s cheek. “See? Will you dare to play in the snow again?”

The listless Qin Tiesheng remained silent. After getting on the bus, the boy’s eyes were glued to Qin Jiashu’s tanghulu, his gaze lingering longingly on the treat.

“Has the fever gone down now?”

“Yes, it has. The hospital gave him a shot to reduce it and prescribed some medicine,” Qin Muchi replied.

“That’s good.” Both parties tacitly ended the conversation.

They were just fellow villagers with a casual acquaintance; a few words were enough.

Qin Jiashu cherished his first-ever tanghulu, the most delicious treat he’d ever tasted. He took tiny bites, occasionally licking the sugary coating, leaving his chin sticky with melted candy.

Xu Jiaojiao, sitting on the minibus, winced at the sight of the child’s sugar-smeared face.

“The bus is about to leave, Xiaoshu. Why don’t Mommy put the tanghulu away for now? You can finish it when we get home, okay?” she negotiated.

The sugar stains on his clothes and face didn’t matter—they could be washed. The real danger was the sharp wooden skewer. The road back to Qin Family Village from the county town was winding and bumpy. If the child lost his grip, the pointed stick could easily poke him—a serious risk.

“Mommy, I want to finish it…” Qin Jiashu pleaded, reluctant to let go of his treat. His voice was pitiful.

He genuinely wanted to finish the tanghulu, but he also wanted to show it off and make Qin Tiesheng, the pampered grandson of the brigade captain, jealous.

Qin Tiesheng, as the captain’s beloved grandson, was spoiled beyond measure. He had tasted rare walnut pastries and fruit candies—luxuries Qin Jiashu could only dream of.

In the past, Qin Jiashu, a neglected child who had lost his mother and whose father was absent, had always envied Qin Tiesheng.

Now, the tables had turned. Qin Tiesheng longed for a tanghulu, but he didn’t have one.

Qin Jiashu clutched his tanghulu, taking a small, mischievous, and provocative bite. Seeing Qin Tiesheng staring longingly and swallowing hard, he felt a surge of delight.

“Xiaoshu, eat up! Take bigger bites,” Xu Jiaojiao said, instantly relenting to the child’s coaxing.

Obediently, Qin Jiashu grabbed the tanghulu and took a large bite, crunching through the brittle candy shell. He chewed with exaggerated relish, making the treat look utterly irresistible. “Mmm, so good!”

Xu Jiaojiao sensed the little boy’s deliberate showmanship. She glanced at Qin Tiesheng, seated a few rows away.

Qin Tiesheng’s eyes were glued to the tanghulu. The already sickly child couldn’t resist the temptation, and his eyes reddened with vulnerability.

“Waaah! I want a tanghulu too!” Qin Tiesheng burst into tears.

“?” Qin Jiashu froze mid-bite, his right cheek bulging with unchewed candy.

Qin Tiesheng’s wails echoed loudly. Qin Jiashu’s small hands gripped the seat in front of him, trembling with excitement.

Having never known parental pampering or thrown tantrums, Qin Jiashu had once gone hungry. Even asking Xu Jiaojiao for pork cracklings had been a bold act of self-assertion for him.

Today, when Qin Jiashu saw the tanghulu, he simply gazed longingly. If Xu Jiaojiao hadn’t noticed, he likely wouldn’t have asked.

Compared to other children, Qin Jiashu lacked a sense of security, but he wasn’t foolish.

Seeing Qin Tiesheng cry, he felt a surge of joy—but also sensed something was wrong. The little boy immediately stuffed the last candied hawthorn into his mouth.

Qin Jiashu suddenly transformed into an adorable little squirrel stuffing pinecones into its cheeks.

“No more tanghulu!” he mumbled through bulging cheeks, waving the empty stick as proof.

Xu Jiaojiao nearly laughed but managed to suppress it.

“Waaah…” Qin Tiesheng wailed even harder, tears and snot smearing across Qin Muchi’s clothes.

Qin Muchi sighed in exasperation. “You’re sick! Why are you eating tanghulu? You’re spoiled! Stop crying!”

“Waaah, I want more…” Qin Tiesheng’s cries shook the bus.

As the wailing continued, the scheduled bus slowly began to move.

“The child is sick and uncomfortable, disturbing everyone,” Qin Muchi explained awkwardly to the passengers. He then whispered soothingly to his son, “Don’t cry. When we get home, I’ll ask your mother to boil you an egg.”

Qin Zhengye, watching the tantrum, bent down to untie one of the burlap sacks piled beside the seats, intending to grab a few hard candies.

“I don’t want eggs! I want candied hawthorns! Even the little savage gets candied hawthorns—why won’t you buy me any?” Qin Tiesheng, six years old and older than Qin Jiashu, cried out.

Xu Jiaojiao saw Qin Zhengye bending down and immediately guessed his intentions.

If Qin Tiesheng were merely spoiled and crying, she could have tolerated it. But he had called Qin Jiashu a “little savage.”

Xu Jiaojiao knew exactly who he meant. She glanced down at the usually cheerful child in her arms, now looking dejected, and felt a surge of anger.

Hmph! How dare he insult my little darling? Qin Zhengye thinks he can give him fruit candy? Dream on! I’d rather throw it out the window than let that brat have it.

She huffed indignantly, ready to stop Qin Zhengye from playing the good Samaritan.

Qin Zhengye was a soldier, a mature man nearing thirty. Xu Jiaojiao assumed he wouldn’t hold a grudge against a sick child’s thoughtless words.

But when Qin Zhengye pulled out the fruit candy, he straightened up without hesitation and tucked it into his military uniform pocket.

“Wife,” Qin Zhengye called to Xu Jiaojiao.

“?” Xu Jiaojiao froze, suspecting she had misheard. Her neck stiffened as she turned to look at him.

“Open your mouth.”

“?” Qin Jiashu, sitting on Xu Jiaojiao’s lap with a candied hawthorn in his mouth, eagerly opened his little mouth to join in the fun.

Xu Jiaojiao instinctively opened hers, and Qin Zhengye immediately fed her an orange-flavored hard candy.